


Comfort Comes To Those Who Don't Want It

by Hailmickey



Category: Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Brother-Sister Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Jason Todd Feels, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23507917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hailmickey/pseuds/Hailmickey
Summary: Jason Todd is known for having come back to life. He makes it look like it doesn't bother him, but he can't hide his true feelings after finding his sister-in-law, Dick Grayson's wife, after waking up from a terrible nightmare. She experienced death, much like he had and returned to the land of the living. Just as Jason had, she hides the nightmares and flashbacks from her husband and friends until one night when Jason finds her in an all too familiar situation.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Original Female Character(s), Jason Todd & Original Character(s)
Kudos: 8
Collections: Young Justice





	Comfort Comes To Those Who Don't Want It

No one had heard my screams. With a glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table I sighed finding it was almost three in the morning. This wasn't the first time I had woken up in the early morning, nearly doused in sweat and a headache now becoming more prominent. It was a common occurrence that I was learning to handle on my own, probably not the healthiest idea, but it was better than waking Dick after long nights prowling the streets as his alter ego. I looked over to my husband who had been sound asleep next to me, despite the tossing and turning I no doubt had done.

He looked so peaceful when he was asleep and I hated waking him when I didn't have to. I always categorized my nightmares as something I could handle, waking him was a last resort. When he found out about my habits of not taking care of myself he tried to be more watchful, but I had learned to hide things from the master. Batman taught me how to keep my identity a secret and in doing so just so happen to make me a master lier. It came in handy when I wake up at odd hours and wait for the others to get up as well.

When people ask how long I've been up for it was best to lie about it than have them worry about me every night. They didn't need the extra stress of my problems on top of their own and if that meant lying about how long I'd been awake then so be it. There was no point in staying in bed any longer since sleep was not an option. I slid out of bed, careful not to wake my husband, tucking in the covers and giving him a kiss on the forehead before shuffling into the bathroom. It was still dark in our room in the Cave, the motion censored lights not set to turn on until a little later in the day. It was a great addition that had been added to the Cave after it had been rebuilt. It was my idea and I was very thankful for it.

When I slid into the bathroom I made sure the door was quietly sealed shut before turning on the light. I came face to face with the mirror that stretched across the wall and I hated what I saw. I was in one of Dick's shirts which came down to my knees like a dress. I was short and I knew that, but at time it came in handy. That was not the problem though. The scar that began at the base of my throat and ran down below my shirt is what made me cringe. A forever reminder that I had lost my life and come back. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing either. I wasn't sure if the constant nightmares and restless nights was worth having come back. I remember the long blade run through my chest and dragged down. I remember the pain that followed and the tears of my husband as my life was drained from me. I remember waking up confused and frighted, surrounded by league of assassins priests after being brought back to life. I remember it all and I hated it. I glared at my reflection, a constant reminder of the life I've lived and battles I've lost and I hated it.

It conjured so much anger in me and before I knew it I found my fist bleeding with shards of glass buried in my knuckles. It wasn't as loud as I had expected it to be and I peaked out the door to find Dick still sound asleep. I tried to clean up some of the mess I made, but I knew I would have to clean up my knuckles in the med-bay. The shattered mirror still had some glass hanging loosely and I caught my broken reflection in it. The bags under my eyes, my all too pale skin, the tear stains I hadn't realized had been on my cheeks. It was all more than I wanted to see, I hated what I looked like, I hated being a broken remnant of what had died.

I wrapped my fist in a washcloth and shut the light off before slipping back out into the darkness of our bedroom and slipping out the door into the hallway. It was much brighter, the hall illuminated by the rods of lights that lead in each direction. I didn't want to wake anyone else as I continued on my way to the med-bay, tip toeing through the deserted hall. At least I thought it was deserted. The further I walked toward my destination I heard the all too familiar sound of rapid footsteps behind me of our resident speedster. I turned around quickly and hid my hand behind my back as he turned around the corner to find me standing alone. Bart Allen, the grandson of one of the men I considered like an uncle. He smiled all too brightly, the same smile that always seemed to get him into trouble.

"Jessie, what're you doing up so late- Have you been crying?" _Crap! I forgot to wipe my face, idiot._

"Oh, uh, I've been watching a sad movie." I mentally slapped myself for how bad of a lie that was. I was supposed to be better than this, but then again, I usually have more time to prepare.

"At three in the morning?"

"I got really into it?" Why was I having such a hard time lying? "I'm fine Bart, what are you doing up?"

"I was about to grab a snack then I saw you leave your room." I nodded and awkwardly shuffled on my feet as I waited for him to leave. He, apparently, didn't get the memo. "Where are you going?"

"Uh, I was gonna get some melatonin from the med-bay."

"Can I join you?" I sighed, knowing this was a losing battle, just like just about every other thing in my life here lately.

"Fine, but you can't say anything to anyone, do you understand?" He looked confused, but when I pulled my hand out from behind me he gasped.

"When did this happen?" he sounded panicked as he took my hand in his as he inspected the damage before staring put at me with nothing but worry. "What did you hit?"

"A mirror?" He didn't look amused and I didn't expect him to, but I also didn't expect him to start dragging me to the med-bay.

"We've gotta get this fixed up before it gets infected. Do you know how many times people clean mirrors? Not often." He sounded more worried than I was about my injury, which I kinda found a little funny. The way he always seemed to overreact to things I would consider minimal would always get him riled up.

"It's fine Bart. You need to be quiet. I don't want to wake anyone up." He nodded, but continued to drag me to where I was originally planning on going. When we got there he sat me down on one of the beds closest to the door, making me face away from it as I watched him race around for the needed materials to patch up my mistake. When he finally got all he needed, he calmed down and sat in front of me and took my hand as he started getting to work.

"Can you tell me why you punched a mirror?" Bart asked. For once in his life he sounded completely serious. The only other time I've every heard him like this was when my best friend had died. When Wally had died...

"I uh, I had a nightmare." I didn't want to go too deep into it. He didn't need to know why I had troubles sleeping and I didn't want to have to tell him that I hated that I was alive.

"What was the nightmare about? You've had nightmares before, what's the difference between this one and the others?"

"I shouldn't be telling you this... You've got your own things to deal with, like being a teenage with superpowers and being from the future. You don't need to hear about my nightmares." He finished cleaning up the cuts and picking out the glass with tweezers and started wrapping gauze around my busted fists.

"Your not adding to my problems, your talking through your own. It will help, trust me." He looked up and made eye contact with me for a short moment and I knew how deeply he wanted to know what was wrong. After Wally had died he felt more responsible in taking up the mantle of Kid Flash and in doing so he worked harder to make a relationship with me like one Wally and I had. He wasn't trying to replace the previous speedster, I knew that was never his intention, he only wanted to make up for something that a part of him still blamed himself for. He was there when he died and he felt responsible for what happened to him.

"It..." I took a deep breath and without thinking I started rattling off a summery of my nightmare. "I was dead." His hands froze for a moment before they continued. "I had died and I remember the pain, the suffering of what had happened that night and when I closed my eyes I was consumed in darkness. I was dead, but I wasn't. Then I was sucked back into a body that no longer felt like my own and everyone was happy for me and I didn't want to disappoint them, I couldn't do that to them after what happened. I smiled and pretended to move on like nothing happened, but the nightmares never stopped. Being unable to move as the blade was stabbed through my chest." My hand ran over the scar that stuck out of my shirt with shaky hands. "I can't help but think what it would be like if I hadn't come back. If I had stayed dead... If they hadn't brought me back, would things be different?" With glossy eyes I looked back up at Bart who had finished wrapping my hand. His eyes were saddened that he couldn't do anything to help, but he had no idea how much this truly did help.

"I'm sorry you have to go through that." I smiled a smile that was not one of happiness, not that I was trying. I ruffled his auburn hair and he smiled, a simple gesture lifting the depressing mood in the room. "If you ever need to talk through your nightmares or just need a friend, don't be afraid to ask. It's the least I could do."

I nodded and he smiled a little more before running off to the kitchen to get the snack he was planning to get before he found me in the hall. Once he left the remnant of my smile fell as I stared down at my hand. I felt as broke as I looked and even though ranting about my nightmare helped a little, it didn't do as much as I portrayed to Bart. He didn't need to worry about me and whatever is going on with me. I was an adult, I could handle myself.

"I'm an adult. Act like one," I muttered to myself before pushing myself off the bed and freeze when I find Jason Todd leaning against the door with his arms crossed.

"I see you've gotten to the nightmare/mirror breaking phase. I wouldn't get into a habit of continuing this hobby. It'll make those dainty hands of yours all scarred up. I doubt Dickiebird would like that."


End file.
